


Zane's Collection of Random Drabbles

by tenlittlecock_bites



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Blow Jobs, Drunk Michael, Fainting, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Panic Attacks, Semi-Public Sex, Sick Michael, Sort of bottom!Ryan, au where ray didnt quit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenlittlecock_bites/pseuds/tenlittlecock_bites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of random tidbits of stuff that I don't feel is long enough to warrant its own fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where Are You Going?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glackedandmullered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glackedandmullered/gifts).



> This is for Chu because I know she loves angst and she was having a bad day
> 
> Disclaimer: I've never had anyone calm me down from a panic (more like anxiety in my cases) attack but I sort of went with what I feel would really calm me down in this situation.

"Geoff... Geoff I fucking can't."

"You can't what, Michael?"

Michael shook and tightened his already vice-like grip on the stress ball in his hand, his breathing too fast and his ears buzzing as his heart pounded in his chest. He was vaguely aware of the hot tears making salty tracks down his flushed cheeks. "Its too much, Geoff. I don't know, it's just too much!" He wailed, trying in vain to grip the stress ball tighter.

"Do you need to be held, Michael?" Geoff's voice was calm, a lull in the storm, the eye of the hurricane. Michael shook his head rapidly, knowing that if anyone touched him he'd shatter into a million pieces.

"Do you want your blanket?"

Michael thought that over for a second, his panic easing off slightly before he nodded, his chest tightening as Geoff got off the bed and went to the door. "Wh-where are you going?" He asked through his labored breathing, voice shaky and small.

"You left the blanket in the living room. I'm just going to go grab it, ok?" Geoff replied, turning to face his boyfriend again, "Take a deep breath, and count to ten. By the time you're done I'll be back. Promise."

Michael nodded and did as he said, inhaling until his lungs were full and slowly, shakily exhaling as he whispered, "1... 2..." By the time he got to 8, Geoff was back in the room, draping the big, fluffy down comforter over his body without touching him. Michael closed his eyes and instantly curled up underneath the blanket, cocooning himself up until only his eyes and his curls showed from beneath the folds of material. He already felt his breathing slowed and his heart rate was following along, the tears on his cheeks and in his eyes drying away.

"Thanks Geoff." Michael mumbled, exhaustion weighing down on him.

"Anything for you, buddy. Do you want me to stay with you?'

Michael hummed and nodded, drifting off to sleep soon after.


	2. Take a Drive With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When things got too hectic in Los Santos, when Geoff felt like his head was full of fuzz and the alcohol didn't help calm his nerves anymore, he'd find his old (admittedly shitty) car in the garage and just go for a drive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a non-shippy drabble but
> 
> We all know I have no self-control.

When things got too hectic in Los Santos, when Geoff felt like his head was full of fuzz and the alcohol didn't help calm his nerves anymore, he'd find his old (admittedly shitty) car in the garage and just go for a drive.

He'd drive out to the outskirts of Los Santos, where the pavement was cracked to all hell, the lines dividing the two lanes on the highway were faded almost to nothing, and all that could be seen for miles around were flat fields filled with dead, yellowing and brown grass and the occasional dilapidated houses with broken down walls, empty window frames, and caved-in roofs.

The CD in the radio kept skipping, but with a well-timed hit from Geoff it sometimes would right itself, allowing him to get back into the rhythm of singing along to the music at the top of his lungs, until his throat was dry and aching and he was desperate for a drink of water to soothe it. The sun beating down on the car did nothing to help the pathetic old air conditioning keep the interior of the vehicle cool, and after too long of being on full-blast it would start to smell vaguely like dust, burnt marshmallows, and mouse shit.

The one time he brought Michael along for a ride, the younger man spent a long time just watching his boss. He looked like he belonged out here much more than he did in Los Santos, dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt with his fucking hot pink sunglasses belting out the lyrics to some old song Michael didn't recognize as he drove down the open highway at speeds way above the legal limit that made the old rust bucket of a car shudder if pushed too far. Geoff in this environment was much different than the crew boss Geoff who drove expensive, exotic cars down the choked up streets of Los Santos with its towering skyscrapers and traffic jams, dressed in fancy, high-end suits and usually talking out some business deal with Kdin over the phone.

He looked so much more at peace like this. So much so that Michael couldn't bring himself to bitch and complain as he usually did, instead leaning back against the seat and watching the fields go by, singing along to the one song he recognized as Geoff grinned at him.

That night, back in their million dollar penthouse, Geoff took Michael into his arms and softly sang a ballad into his ear before pulling him into bed, the two men undressing each other slowly, taking no rush as they moved together into passionate kisses and grabbing hands, soft moans and sharp exhaling breaths echoing around the room as Geoff fucked into Michael slowly but with purpose, the two crashing one after the other into orgasm falling asleep in each other's arms.


	3. Peach Moonshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remind Ryan to never let Michael get drunk at RTX again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... Is sort of just a big mess.

Ryan shouldn't have been surprised by Michael shoving him into the empty storage room after how much the man had had to drink that day. Any of Ryan's protests cut off as the younger man dropped to his knees, fingers working at his belt and unbuttoning his jeans without even a word spoken between them.

Michael's hands tugged the jeans and Ryan's boxers down and his tongue ran up the length of his thigh, tasting the little bit of peach moonshine that had seeped through the denim of his jeans. Ryan shivered and choked out a "Michael", the lad's mouth pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of Ryan's inner thighs, his fingers teasing along the length of his steadily growing erection. It never ceased to amaze him how easily Michael could get him worked up.

Ryan bit back a moan each time Michael sucked a mark into his thighs, but couldn't hold back as Michael's tongue ran along the underside of his cock, leaning heavily against the wall as he slid his fingers into the younger man's curls.

"We shouldn't be... Michael... This is..." Ryan was having trouble forming coherent sentences as Michael continued his ministrations on his shaft, licking and pressing open mouthed kisses to the sensitive flesh, avoiding the head altogether.

Michael pulled back briefly and looked up at Ryan, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed. It was a beautiful sight, and suddenly Ryan didn't want to care that they were in a fucking storage room. "Ryan, stop worrying and shut up." His tongue traced a circle around the head of Ryan's cock and the man moaned, his hips jerking slightly, "Although you can definitely keep doing that."

Michael's hands shot to his hips and pinned them firmly against the wall, the strength shocking Ryan and sending a surge of pleasure straight to his cock as it was slowly enveloped into the wet warmth of Michael's mouth. Ryan groaned and tried to buck into the feeling, but Michael's hands only pressed harder, fingers biting into the small of his back.

"Michael." Ryan gasped, not in protest this time, as the lad's nose pressed against his pelvis, "Fuck, Michael, that's so good, fuck." Ryan moaned as Michael hummed at the praise. They both had such a praise kink it was ridiculous.

Michael continued to suck Ryan off at a slow pace, alternating between deep throating, slowly bobbing his head, or pulling off altogether to lick and kiss at his cock and it was driving Ryan mad. He was soon reduced to whimpered moans and almost begging for release, fingers tightening in Michael's hair as he sucked at his head.

"Michael... Michael _please_." Ryan begged, his head falling back against the wall and his eyes falling shut as he tried fruitlessly to move his hips.

"Now that's what I wanted to hear rye-bread." Michael cooed before taking Ryan in as far as he could, pulling his hips forward with a firm grip on his ass. Ryan pulled Michael's hair hard, feeling the younger man moan around him before pulling back for air and repeating the action until Ryan's knees were weak and his orgasm was oh so slowly building up.

Michael finally pulled off for the last time and started jerking Ryan off in earnest, ducking his head to suck more hickeys into Ryan's thighs as the older man moaned and shook above him, slumping back against the wall and throwing his head back as he came, Michael looking up to see Ryan's bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyes shut tight, jaw clenched and cheeks flushed. It was the hottest damn thing and Michael suddenly regretted not getting himself off during this little session too, but it was worth it to see Ryan like this.

Michael got to his feet to asses his work before helping Ryan get himself situated, buckling his belt for him as he pressed a kiss to his jaw.


	4. Are You Alright?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is a persistent little shit who insists on trying to work while he's sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super short and the only thing I've written in weeks just... Wow.
> 
> For Chu

The guys knew that something was wrong with Michael as soon as he stepped foot into the office that morning. It was hard not to, considering the lad's pale face and the bags underneath his eyes and the obvious lack of energy weighing down his limbs as he shuffled to his chair, sitting down heavily and putting on his headphones without so much as a hello.

He made a damn good effort to fight through filming, though. The six of them got through an entire GTA let's play and half of a versus before Michael's face got noticeably more ashy and his hand reached over to brace against the Jack as he lilted to the side.

"Michael, are you alright?" Ryan asked, Gavin and Ray stopping their game to look over at their fellow lad.

"Yeah. I'm... I'm fi--" Michael started to say, but then his eyes slipped shut and his body went limp, collapsing and leaving Jack with barely enough time to catch him before his head could hit the floor.


End file.
